


Organised Chaos

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-01
Updated: 2007-07-22
Packaged: 2019-01-19 18:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12415209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Welcome to the utterly mad world of one, Lily Evans. If you ever met her, she'd tell you with utmost certainty that she doesn't fancy James Potter. But what does her diary say about that?





	1. Ink & Parchment Are Taken Far Too Seriously These Days

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

**A.N:  **Erm, hello!

Well, this is my second stab at something that's more than a one-shot in a while, and even longer since I've had a stab at something humour-related, so bear with me.

I've got to say firstly that the inspiration for this came from the extremely magnificant Beedaily's _Commentarius_ and newyorkcitycop's _The Not-So-Secret and Completely Manly Diary of James Potter_. Thank you so much for writing these amazing stories!

It also can be read as a prequel to _It Takes A Lot Out Of You, Proposing Does_ , which is posted on my ff.net account, although it has nothing to do with rings, or engagement. At the moment anyways.

Anywhoo, I hope people enjoy this, because I like writing humour. It's much nicer than all the stressful angsty stuff =)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything I'm afraid!

**\-----**

**17th March 1976.**

**On My Bed, Hangings Drawn; Hiding From Deranged Best Mates.**

_Honestly._

Of all the things I could’ve gotten for my birthday, this takes the biscuit. A diary? And do you _know_ what Marlene said when she handed this to me?

“Well, at least this gives you a place to write down all your sordid fantasies about James Potter.”

Fantasies; about James _sodding_ Potter! She talks about it as though I fancy him!

Which I don’t.

...Much.

Argh! I’ve spent two minutes writing in this thing and that mad, completely _insane_ best mate of mine has already got me admitting, no,  _writing_ it. She must have placed some sort of charm on my quill and/or this book to force me to put things I don’t mean.

Yes, that’s it.

Because I don’t fancy him. Oh no, no, no, no.

Even if he’s changed his attitude remarkably since a year back. I mean, honestly, _Snape’s underwear?_ Who really wants to see that? No matter how hilarious it might be!

What? I was a Prefect for Merlin’s sake; I have to pretend that these kinds of things aren’t funny and set a good example. It goes with the job description.

_Anyway_ , back to where I was before I was side-tracked by Ja - Potter...I don’t fancy him. And that’s that.

I will now proceed to shove this account in Marlene’s face and stop her from laughing like a mad hyena on helium. 

\-----

**Still March 17th.**

**Marlene’s Bed, Girls Dormitory.**

Hah. That showed her.

I’ve locked her in the bathroom (after snatching her wand off her) until she relents with this ‘Lily fancies Potter’ malarkey. And now I’m proceeding to eat the chocolates my parents got me without her. Over exaggerating while I do so, of course.

“Lils, _come on_. Let me out of here already! Bloody hell, it was a joke!”

Dum-di-dum...

“Lily? Are you even listening to me? _Lily? Lily you haven’t just eaten a strawberry cream, have you!?_ ”

Oh, how I love being evil.

\-----

**5 Minutes Later.**

I suppose one can’t be _too_ harsh on ones friends, one never knows when they’ll come in handy.

Especially as she’s gotten her hands on a rather incredulous doodle that I _supposedly_ drew last History of Magic lesson, depicting a rather elaborate love-heart with the letters L and J in the middle.

Pft. You think _I_ drew that?

You’re sorely mistaken. Clearly it was not _my_ brown, eagle-owl feathered quill that I usually write with.

~~Although it may have been my spare one...~~

Ahem. Moving swiftly on, she says she will use it as black-mail against me in future situations. And that it will be embarrassing. Deeply so.

I was actually quite worried so I let her out. I mean, I didn’t want Potter to get an even bigger head by the thought of a parchment that _supposedly_ was written in my hand, confessing (in pictures) my thoughts on him.

Because, well, he’d be wanting his head checked, wouldn’t he? Because I don’t fancy him. Not in the slightest.

And anyone else who’s inclined to believe that stupid piece of parchment needs their heads checked as well. Which would defiantly include Marlene. Silly goose.

Ugh. I need new friends.

\-----

**Still 17th March. **

**Common Room.**

I. _Hate_. My. Life.

Full stop.

 I also hate the fact that my birthday falls on St. Patricks Day. I mean, it was bad enough when I was 7 years old and we had to go to Belfast to visit the whole family, and my Auntie Tessie decided it would be _lovely_ to dress me up in green and parade me around in the town. The ensemble included a leprechaun’s hat with the words _“Birthday Girl”_ on it. Need I say more? 

But the Marauders. _Ugh_.

 They’re just...incorrigible. Yes, that’s what they are. Bloody incorrigible. All four of them. 

Does a girl really want to walk downstairs on her seventeenth birthday and find a huge banner proclaiming, _“Happy Birthday Lily Evans!”_ draped across the width of the room? 

Well, yes. Except, _this_ particular banner also said underneath _“Kiss her, she’s Irish!”_ which flashed (yes, _flashed_ ) twelve different colours. I counted them while my mouth was open in utter shock. 

The four aforementioned lads were there, all grinning and shouting their birthday greetings to me. I think they were expecting me to be _happy_ about it. 

Cue one mad Lily Evans, wands a-blazing, hexing the life out of anyone in sight and stomping off, screaming abuse as she goes. 

\----- 

**An Hour Later.**

**The Bottom Of The Girl’s Staircase.**

Oh.

Turns out I should’ve looked around the room a bit before shouting my mouth off.

I sort of feel bad about the whole scenario now.

You see, the Marauders and my mates, (Marlene, Alice and Emmeline) had organised a surprise party for my birthday. The Marauders even snuck into Hogsmeade to get supplies for said party which, despite my trying to set a good example, I was a little touched by. They didn’t do that for Benjy Fenwick last month, and he’s one of the best Chasers on the Gryffindor Quidditch team! (Along with Potter, which I admit to. Grudgingly.)

But I’m still not coming down. Nope.

I’m not coming down.

\----- 

**17th/18th March?**

**My Bed.**

Ja - Potter came up to me whilst I was sitting on the staircase, feeling very morose about the whole situation. He sat next to me (very tentatively it can be said. Either because of my infamous temper or that the girl’s staircase doesn’t like boys that much.)

“Hey, Evans,” He offered me a small smile, obviously trying to apologise. A small part of me wanted to tell him to bugger off at this point. I resisted the temptation.

“Hey,” I moved along slightly, so that I was now leaning against one of the stone walls, “The party sounds good.”

It did, actually. Someone had turned the wireless on and I could hear a Celestina Warbeck song streaming through the speakers. The smell of food had drifted up to us as well. McGonagall would throw a fit if she found out. That thought made me smile deviously.

“What’s up?”

I’d almost forgotten Potter was there, which was unusual, as he usually made a spectacle of himself anywhere he went. It would take a deaf, dumb and blind person not to notice him.

“Oh, nothing really.” I turned to him, thinking nothing of our close proximity _until_ I saw that the candlelight reflecting off his glasses made his eyes darker and a much deeper colour of hazel. Conversations I had with Marlene earlier sprang into my mind and I was beginning to experience a strange tingling feeling in my fingertips.

Oh, don’t be silly, Evans!

It’s pins and needles.

Yes. That’s it.

I’m not attracted to him in any way whatsoever.

I think he was starting to find me slightly strange because I was just staring into space, not participating further into the conversation at all.

So I snapped out of it. Only because it was rude to stare though.

“Erm...Potter?” I bit my lip as he tilted his head to one side questioningly, “Sorry about, you know, the whole thing downstairs earlier. I shouldn’t be so presumptuous. It’s an awful trait of mine.”

He grinned, standing up, “Most defiantly. Apology accepted, seeing as anything planned by _us_ would _immediately_ warrant suspicion in the first place.”

My stomach lurched guiltily. He was being sarcastic, I knew it. How many times had I told him off for doing exactly what I thought he’d done earlier?

Were my words being thrown back at me, or was that just me?

I think he noticed my expression, and so bent down so he was my height. (I was still sitting down on the staircase at this point, and the tingles that I thought I had under control came back as soon as his eyes and that stupid, _idiotic_ grin met mine.)

“Come on, Evans, the birthday girl shouldn’t be stuck up here during her own party; it would be a travesty!”

He laughed and offered a hand out to me, “Want to dance?”

Doesn’t he understand that these tingles would get worse if I actually _had physical contact with him?_

“Alright. But that doesn’t mean you can slip Firewhiskey into my drink.”

Clearly my body hadn’t a clue either, which was rubbish, to put it bluntly. So I allowed myself (or rather, my uncooperative body allowed myself without my consent) to be led downstairs to the party, where the majority of the 6th and 7th years had made themselves at home. 

I think we got a few stares passing through. And I’m sure I saw Marlene spit her drink out of her mouth in shock. I pity Peter Pettigrew. Butterbeer doesn’t wash out of your hair easily.

So, anyway, we danced for a little bit, chatted for ages and I found out James is actually quite a decent bloke. Sure, his friends are complete nutcases, and I don’t think he’s mentally stable himself, but he’s alright, you know?

If Marlene reads this entry she’ll immediately start spouting that I fancy him again which (and I’ve stated this many, _many_ times already) I don’t.

...Although I am twirling my quill around in my hand and grinning insanely to myself when I think of how his hand was touching mine, or the way his nose was so very, very close to my ear when we were dancing, or how I loved the way he laughed – 

_ANYWAY!_

I’m going to go to bed now. The Butterbeer has obviously gone to my head.

_Happy Birthday to me,_

_Happy Birthday to me..._


	2. The Annoyances of the Male Species

** Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to JKR.

**\-----**

**24th March 1976**

**The Common Room**

I can’t _believe_ I thought that stupid, big-headed git was actually _worth being nice_ _to._ Do you know what I found out today? He pranked Snape. _Again._

I mean, the boy’s a little on the strange side...a bit of a social recluse...mad on the Dark Arts...ok, perhaps he’s a complete weirdo, but that’s no excuse!

As soon as I found out, (from a passing group of 4th year girls who were giggling madly), I marched straight over there, or rather tried to, as Professor Flitwick caught me in the Charms corridor, jabbering about tutoring younger students. I was determined not to let that pillock get away with it though, so as soon as I was let go from the Professor’s grasp, I made my way over to the commotion.

Of course, there _was_ no commotion when I finally got there, which is just my luck.

I sincerely hope McGonagall gave _him_ a proper telling off.

And I was thinking of _fancying_ the bloke!

\-----

**A While Later**

**The Common Room, ignoring my friends.**

Yes, that’s right, ignoring them. _Because they are all back-stabbing traitors._

They amble into the Common Room, as easy as you like, disturbing us _diligent_ people who are _trying_ to work on Potions essays, all cackling like loons over the latest stint pulled by the Great-Prats of the school, a.k.a the (cough) High-and-Mighty Marauders themselves. Strike one on the back-stabbing scale.

So they all plonk themselves down next to me, expecting me to join in with them, for Merlin’s sake!

“Lils, don’t tell me you didn’t see Snape earlier?” Marlene asks, looking over to me as if she expects me to join in their pathetic laughing escapade.

“Of course not,” I snorted distastefully, “I don’t want to watch anything Potter gets up to, he’s just a bully.”

The three girls rolled their eyes simultaneously, as if my words were too predictable. Strike two on the back-stabbing scale.

“It _was_ pretty funny to see that greasy-haired Slytherin turn pink though, it clashed with his hair horribly,” Emmeline laughed, causing Marlene to chuckle in agreement, “And when they made him tap dance! – “

“ _That_ was pretty horrid,” Alice countered softly, and I let out a mental cheer; one of my friends is still on my side!

“...Although...he deserved it, you know, ‘cause it _is_ him and all.”

Strike _three_ on the back-stabbing scale.

“Look,” I put my essay down with a flourish, “I’m not interested in the latest gossip about _them_ – “

“You liked them enough a week ago,” Marlene had that, that, _look_ in her eye that I hated, the look that said ‘remember-I-have-black-mailing-evidence-against-you-concerning-a-certain-bespectecled-idiot’, “Especially when you were dancing with – “

“ _That’s enough!”_ I exclaimed, making a few studious people in the Common Room look at me in disgust, “I don’t know what you’re talking about and refuse to participate further in this conversation. The end.”

There were tuts of disapproval all round, and my friends decided to leave me and depart for lunch, but I could have sworn I heard Alice murmuring, “She really does fancy him, doesn’t she?”

Strike four on the back-stabbing scale.

\-----

**24th March**

**Bathroom in Girl’s Dorm – the only place that can be locked from the inside.**

I really, really, _really_ hate Potter.

Forget about any of that waffle I said last week; I was clearly under the influence.

I’d decided, after about an hour’s hard work on that Potions essay, that I’d join my friends for what remained of lunch, hoping that it would be as Potter-free as possible.

Like that would ever happen.

Anyway, I get down there and slip into my usual place next to Marlene and opposite Alice on the far end of the Gryffindor table, and they give a little cheer at my arrival.

“You’ve just missed the sausage rolls!” Emmeline exclaimed, which was true, as the lunch-time edibles were just disappearing, to be replaced with even more delicious puddings.

I quickly grabbed a toasted sandwich or two.

“Anything else happened?” I asked, taking a bite and glancing down the length of the table where, sure enough, the Marauders were situated, chuckling merrily away about Godric-knows what.

“Well, Kathleen Douglas and Chris Bennett broke up about ten minutes ago, caused quite a scene as well,” Marlene stated, piling ice-cream into her bowl, “Honestly, I don’t ever think I’ve seen someone cry so much.”

I always knew those two were doomed from the beginning.

And so we spent a merry ten minutes or so chatting rather amicably amongst ourselves about the hilarity of public break-ups, (provided it’s not you, of course), when who should snake an arm around my shoulder?

That’s right.

_Potter._

I very noticeably stiffened as he slid in between Marlene and myself, with his little cohort Black standing just to the side of us, looking like he’d just pulled out the short straw.

“‘Afternoon girls,” Potter began, flashing every one of those stupid teeth of his, “I trust you’re all well?”

We all muttered our not-so-impressed answers, and I tried in vain to break free from the boy’s grip.

“Come on mate,” Sirius said, seeming moody, “Just get on with it already.” 

My eyes immediately narrowed at his exclamation; get on with _what_ exactly?

 ...Oh no... 

“ _So_...Evans,” Potter turned towards me, still grinning. I think he expected me to melt into a pile of goo just because of that look. 

Let’s just say that I wasn’t suitably impressed. 

“ _No_ , Potter,” I answered before he could continue, becoming increasingly frustrated with the bloke, and the fact that I could escape from his vice-like grip. “I’m not interested, so kindly let go of me and –” 

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, you see.” 

I stopped my incessant struggling for a moment, “Pardon?” 

He tapped the side of his nose secretly, “There’s no need to act stupid, my dear Evans, I know you’re completely head-over-heels for me.” 

This elicited four different reactions from different people: 

**1.** Sirius put a hand to his forehead and let out a groan. 

**2.** Marlene, Alice and Emmeline all looked at each other warily, and then uncertainly at me, very aware that I had a wand in my pocket. 

**3.** The surrounding student population looked on with bated breath, (obviously this was much more interesting than Douglas and Bennett breaking up.) 

**4.** And then there was me. 

I mean, how could a girl be so deceived? Firstly, he (or Marlene, or both of them) tricks me into thinking that I could _possibly_ fancy him, then he acts all nice and grown-up at the party, which makes me think he’s not so bad after all, and _then_ he turns around and acts exactly how he usually did before said party!

 “Potter,” I gritted my teeth to keep my voice level, “Let me try and get this into your head. I am _not_ ‘head-over-heels’ for you. I am _not_ going to go out with you, and I am _not_ remotely interested! Especially after that escapade with Snape this morning.”

I must say, my self-control impressed me greatly at that point. 

“But you see, Evans,” he countered, beginning to look smug, “I did _that_ in your honour.” 

He _what_? Can someone explain to me how that’s supposed to impress a girl? 

“That makes it even worse!” I was beginning to lose control of my temper now, “You were bullying an innocent student in my name!” 

“He wasn’t that innocent,” Potter answered darkly, “He was mouthing off about you so I decided to shut him up.” 

A very small part of me was touched, but the rest of me was ready to tackle him to the ground and strangle him until his abnormally large head exploded. 

“I don’t need you to fight my battles, _Potter._ It doesn’t bother me what people say. Stop trying to act like a bloody hero and bugger off!” 

He did, thank Merlin, although I heard Black mutter as they passed me, “She’s not worth it mate; just a stuck-up prude.” 

Marlene had to hold me back at that point. I swear those boys will land me in Azkaban one day. 


	3. Note-Taking And Mystery Making

**A/N:** Sorry I've took so long in updating, school-life is a real pain sometimes. 

\-----

** April 16th 1976 **

** The Common Room **

I tell you what; if I hear one more professor talking about revision for our bloody summer exams I think I might _scream_. I mean, we’re only in April for Merlin’s sake! And yes I _know_ that this is our last year before N.E.W.Ts and we all have to do very well, but I’d much rather worry about that when I’m actually _in_ 7th year and have no social life because of the amount of work we have. I don’t particularly want to kill myself worrying about it _now._

But I will anyway, of course.

Professors obviously don’t understand the amount of emotional stress we students go through. Having to retain a balance between social and work life can be _incredibly_ frustrating. Especially when you have and annoying _git_ who _will not leave me alone_ and is presently trying to _look over my shoulder to see what I’m writing._

One moment.

_There_. I feel a l _ot_ better now. The bloke just never bloody gives up, does he?

\-----

** April 17th  **

** History of Magic **

Something’s happened. I don’t exactly know _what_ it is but something’s gone and _by Godric_ the tension! You can almost _see_ it!

I’m talking about the Marauders, by the way. I mean, they were alright yesterday, happy as Larry. But today they’ve been all moody and really quiet and that’s just _not_ them. And they’ve just been called to see the Headmaster so I’m assuming they’ve done _something_ wrong...but then again when they _do_ do something wrong they usually don’t care and are still laughing and joking and being their usual idiotic selves.

Now...well...Potter and Black aren’t speaking, and that’s just not _right_. Remus isn’t speaking to Black either and Pettigrew’s just...being him I suppose. Not much change.

...Snape’s been called up as well. So...perhaps it’s something involving him and the Marauders...but why are they not speaking? If it was a prank they would be as thick as the thieves they usually are!

**Lils –**

**What’s going on? The Marauders are acting decidedly less Maraudery today. Do you think Snape did some Dark-voodoo on them? M.**

_I doubt it Marls, it’s more a case of them doing something to him. But what._

**That is the ever present question, I suppose. They haven’t _killed_ anyone, have they?**

_Oh please Marley, we’d have known if that had –_

**Ooh...I think a light bulb’s been switched on there. What’s the big solution oh Oracle Lily?**

_Well...it’s a long shot. But...you don’t think they tried to harm Snape, you know, in a more brutal way than usual?_

**Then why would Potter and Black be glaring at each other like a Slytherin and a Gryffindor at the beginning of a Quidditch match?**

_I...don’t...know...argh, it’s frustrating not knowing._

Go snog Potter’s face off and I’m sure he’d tell you the reason.

_Bugger off Em. You should be taking notes._

**Says she. Do it Lils! You know it’d work.**

Exactly, come on, we all know you _fancy_ his arse off.

_Bog off, all of you._

_\-----_

**A While Later**

**The Great Hall**

Maybe I should just go up and ask – 

No. That would be a bit rude.

...Actually, Potter looks very cute when he’s all downfallen and depressed.

...Not that that’s a good thing to be, of course.

It’s just too strange; the fact that Remus, Potter and Pettigrew are sitting by themselves without Black. He hasn’t come in yet. And they all look _so depressed_. Remus is even looking paler than usual.

My friends and I spent the last half hour of HoM discussing all possible solutions to their very obvious problem, ranging from a prank gone wrong to fighting over who went out with Snape (I’m favouring the first option.) We briefed Alice on the conversation afterwards, as she protested we’d left her out. (But honestly, if she wants to flounce off doing Care of Magical Creatures and petting deforming creatures on the head that’s _her_ problem.)

Marlene attempted conversation with Remus, but that didn’t go down too well. So we gave up.

Although, if I just tilt my head 23.4 degrees more, I might just catch Potter’s eye –

Oh dammit. What’s everyone making a fuss about? I swear he was about to tell all! (Not that he was close enough to say anything...I could just see it in his eyes as they met mine for about a millisecond.)

Oh.

Oh _dear._

Well, _this_ will be interesting. 


	4. Manly Shows of Strength and Disembodied Voices

Okay, sorry for the lack of an update. My laptop has a tendancy to die on me for long periods of time. ^^; 

 -------

** April 17th still  **

** The Great Hall (still) **

Ah. 

Erm. Maybe I’ll.. 

I’ll write later. 

Yeah. 

I’ll write later.

 ----- 

** That Evening  **

** Girl’s Dormitory **

I can’t even begin to write about what happened in the Hall earlier. It was just...degrading, immature, embarrassing...and stupid, completely and _utterly_. 

I mean... 

Ugh. 

Do boys always have to get into a huge fight over things? Like physically? Is it some sort of show of masculine superiority over other blokes? 

Because when Sirius Black walked back into the Great Hall, I certainly didn’t expect what I saw to actually _happen_ because that means the world’s been turned on it’s head and everything’s gone so _wrong_ somewhere along the line. 

Potter and Black are in the Hospital Wing right now...I mean, _the Hospital Wing_. They started fighting in front of everyone at dinner. And Professor McGonagall had to perform the Body-Bind to stop them both! 

Of course, the rest of the school started egging them on, especially the Slytherins. Especially Snape, actually. He looked really smug.

Remus looked like his world had come to an end. I think he was actually shaking. He couldn’t stop them fighting...though...actually I think he was _egging James on_.

James was yelling something about something while they were punching and kicking each other but I couldn’t quite make out what. Something about putting someone’s life in danger and Sirius had no sense. (Which, of course, I agree with, Black is completely lacking in that area.) 

But do you know what the ponce did? (Potter, not Black)

He actually looked round for me when they were being ushered to the Hospital Wing and smiled. _SMILED_. 

The bloody _NERVE_.

I mean, you start a fight with your supposed “best friend” in the Hall, make a complete fool of yourself in front of the _entire_ school, lose 50 House Points, yes _50_ , for your House, and you _still_ have the _audacity_ to _smile_ at someone like you haven’t done anything _wrong_?

Does that make sense to anyone else around here? 

Anyone? 

Thought not. 

Ugh. 

I don’t care if Potter saved someone from being ravaged by wild beasts; it gives him _no right_ to act like a complete and utter _prick_. 

Although, I suppose he can’t help it. It seems being an absolute idiot is encoded in his DNA.

I’m going to bed now before I feel the urge to throw something. 

Preferably at Potter’s stupid head. 

\------ 

** Girl’s Dorm  **

**God-knows-what-time-it-is**

Okay. 

Did you hear that?

No?

 .... 

_There!_

...There are noises coming from the Common Room downstairs.

Loud noises.

Like someone’s _in there creeping around_. 

And Marlene won’t wake up. 

... 

Nor will Emmie. Or Alice. 

Oh Godric I’m alone.

Oh Godric what if it’s an attacker?

_OH GODRIC IT’S DEATH EATER’S COME TO MURDER US ALL IN OUR BEDS AND NO-ONE KNOWS BUT ME!_

... 

Okay... _breathe_ , Lily. In. Out. In. Out. 

...Alright. Time to play Super-Lily and save Gryffindor Tower from doom. 

...I’m taking my wand with me. 

...Maybe I won’t go just yet. 

... 

Or yet. 

... 

Or- 

_AH NOISE!_

...Okay. I’m going. 

Be brave, Lily. You’re a Gryffindor. You’re supposed to be brave to the point of stupidity. 

... Right. Going now.

 ------ 

** Gryffindor Common Room  **

**Still-don’t-know-the-time**

...There’s no-one here. 

But there were _definitely_ noises. I heard something. I _swear_. 

Hmm... 

This is defiantly topping off my Day-Of-Absolute-Strange-And-Surreal-Things-That-I-Never-Thought-Would-Happen. 

...Maybe I should just sit down for a while... 

_AAAAHHHHHH!_

...Did the sofa just _scream_ when I did? 

Oh Merlin and Agrippa, I must be dreaming. Chairs can’t _scream_ , even if this is the Wizarding World. 

...Can’t they? 

Right, maybe if I just gently poke the sofa again... 

“Lily, what in Merlin’s name are you doing?” 


	5. Confrontations and Revelations

**A.N:**   I'm updating now rather than later, as later I'll be doing exams/work experience and goodness knows what else. So I'm doing it now :) 

\-----

**April 17th (but could be the 18th now for all I know)**

**Gryffindor Common Room**

Okay. So there definitely _was_ a voice this time.

\------

**April 18th**

**On My Bed – Girl’s Dorm**

...Wow.

Just...

_Wow_.

I’m having trouble forming coherent sentences right now. Sort of in shock. Give me a minute.

...

Right. I’m de-shocked.

The voice? It was Potter’s. He was leaning against one of the walls, as casual as you like, as if popping up out of thin air in the middle of the night after making a spectacle of yourself during the daytime was a regular occurance.

My hands quickly darted behind my back.

“Nothing,” I muttered, putting on my best scowling Die-Potter look, “But I can ask the same of you. Shouldn’t you still be in the Hospital Wing?”

He twitched nervously before bringing his hand up to ruffle his crow’s-nest of hair. How many times have I told him that it bloody annoys me when he does that?

“Sorry,” he grinned apologetically, (pft, as if it was sincere), and stopped, “Look, Evans, don’t _tell_ anyone that I’m not there anymore, alright? Pomfrey freaks me out, and besides, I’m perfectly fine and healthy. But thank you for your concern.”

My eyes rolled almost automatically, “ _Concerned_ , Potter? The only thing I am concerned about is the amount of House Points you lost for us today. What was the fight about, hmm? Can’t decide which of you is more idiotic?”

The change in his demeanour was rapid and very noticeable. He got off the wall and stepped forward, an angry look in his eyes that I hadn’t seen _ever_ before. Not even when he was taunting Snape. I felt very small and stupid right at that moment, and I couldn’t explain why.

“You don’t know _anything_ about what happened, Evans. I didn’t think you were quick to judge, but I suppose you never give _me_ a chance, do you?”

That’s wrong! I gave him a chance! Lots of chances! And it’s not like it was something really _serious_ had happened.

But then I noticed how scarred his face and hands were, and how haggard he looked.

“You didn’t...you didn’t get those from Sirius, did you?” It was meant to sound like a question but it came out as more of a statement.

James turned away again, “That’s none of your business.”

“Yes it is! Because – ”

“ _Because_?”

He was looking at me again, but I had _never_ seen him look at me like that before. It made me feel dirty, like I was the lowest thing on Earth. He looked at me like he detested me, and none of the dirty looks or names my sister or the Slytherins had called me could _ever_ match up to how much pain I felt when James looked at me like that. I suddenly felt like crying.

I couldn’t answer him. At that moment I just felt so _foolish_ and I _knew_ something bad had happened, worse than anything. It would have had to be to make James and Black fall out the way they did.

Then something clicked. Snape being called up to see the Headmaster. Snape looking so pleased with himself when the two were fighting. Remus’ behaviour towards Black..

“...You saved...Snape from something,” I said slowly.

James’ head whirled round so fast to look at me that I would have found it quite comical if the circumstances were different.

I carried on talking, managing to stare him straight in the eye (just), “Some sort of trick on him went wrong...something Black thought up...and you _saved_ him. _That’s_ how you got hurt. _That’s_ why you and Black fought, isn’t it?”

I could see James swallow slowly, obviously unsure of what to say. I couldn’t for the life of me imagine anything like this ever happening, but this conversation was making me see an entirely different side to him, one which I didn’t think could _ever_ exist.

“He...I...” He sighed deeply. “Yes.”

I started to ask another question – “How did you get those scars then?” – but he put a hand up to silence me, “I can’t say anything else, Evans, and _please_ don’t ask anymore questions or tell _anyone_ , alright? Sirius and I, we’re...we’re alright now and Snape’s ali– alright too, so there’s no harm done.”

Was he about to say _alive_?

“Just...” he sighed again and leant against the side of one of the chairs by the fireside. I sat next to him, and he actually took my hand in his – not unlike the party – and rubbed his thumb over my hand gently. Strange thing is, _I let him_.

“Just...don’t worry about it, okay?” He glanced up where I was watching him intently, and the cold look he’d given me before had gone, and his – very hypnotising, might I add – hazel eyes were full of another look, except I’d seen this one before, many times...but never to that intensity.

I nodded, and at this point I had to keep telling myself to breathe, and I was wondering if the oxygen supply of Hogwarts was running out. Which was absurd because no-one at Hogwarts knew how to remove oxygen from a room the Muggle way, unless they had invented a spell for it so – 

My train of thought was momentarily interrupted because James’ lips were brushing very softly over my own.

He was kissing me. 

He. Was. Kissing. Me.

_And I was letting him_.

And...and well...I _liked_ it. He’s a very good kisser, I must say.

And after that most things were a bit blurry and now I’m currently sitting cross-legged on my bed feeling the need to jump up and down screaming in happiness.

All because Potter kissed me.

I don’t understand it, and it’s not good because I _don’t want_ to feel like this about Potter...but it’s annoying what good kisses can do and I _am_ rather tired so I think I’ll think about this in the morning rather than now. 

**AND MARLENE MCKINNON/ALICE JONES/EMMELINE VANCE IF YOU READ THIS AND/OR TELL ANYONE I CAN AND WILL PRACTISE MY BAT-BOGEY HEX ON YOU.**

\-----


	6. When Being At A Boarding School Really Does Have Its Downsides

**A.N:**  I hope everyone's enjoyed reading (or is still enjoying reading) Deathly Hallows! :)

Everyone's probably still off reading it but I felt like I had to post the next chapter of this to prove to myself that I still posses the ability to write fan-fiction even though the series is over now.

I'm hoping that I won't get the urge to stop just yet.

Anyway, if you're reading this, thank you =)

**\-----**

**April 19th**

**Great Hall, at breakfast**

**\-----**

You know, I woke up this morning feeling strangely happy. I mean, I’d been smiling _all_ day, even when the mirror in the bathroom told me my hair could do with a trim, and I couldn’t think why.

That is, until a rather loud knock accompanied by a rather loud voice which I’m sure woke up every single portrait in the castle, along with every student, reach my ears.

“Lily Marie Evans you never told me that you _snogged James Potter last night!?”_

I almost choked on my toothbrush as the rest of the girls dormitory erupted into giggles and squeals of delight, “That’s private!” I yelled back, making everyone explode into another round of laughter and talking.

“So it’s _true_ then?” I heard Emmeline’s voice through the wood, and I could tell she was grinning, “What happened to, ‘ _he’s just an egoistical bully’_?’”

I could hear my other dorm-mates start to make their way down for breakfast, and I paled when I realised that this small –ahem– _happening_ would be all over the school like wildfire by the end of breakfast.

“Oh, leave off, Em,” I heard Alice’s voice say, “Now there’s going to be a row when we get downstairs, I just know it.”

“There’s nearly always a row when Potter and Lils are concerned anyway,” Marlene said cheerfully. (Honestly, how she could be cheerful right now I _don’t_ know. I’m ready to dig my own grave and bury myself in it, and possibly push Emmeline into one too.)

“Come on, Lily! We might as well get this whole escapade over with so you can hurry up and marry the bloke.”

Pulling my school robe on over my uniform, I opened the bathroom door, where Alice was standing awkwardly next to the door, Emmeline was holding my diary in one hand, looking only slightly embarrassed, and Marlene was brushing her hair in the mirror, a mischievous look directed at me through the glass.

“Thanks,” I said in a dry tone, “That’s _just_ how I wanted to start my day.”

I snatched the diary from Emmeline’s hand and left for the Great Hall, hearing an, “ _Ooooh_ ,” from Marlene, but, to be honest, I wasn’t that bothered, I was too worried about the reception I’d get in the Hall.

I heard footsteps behind me as I neared the bottom of the stairs and Alice appeared at my side, an apologetic smile on her face.

“Don’t worry, Lily,” she said, “You know what they’re like. And besides, everyone will have forgotten about it by this afternoon! 

“Yeah,” I smiled grimly, “I’ve just got to get to this afternoon first, haven’t I?”

So now we’re both sitting near the far end of the Gryffindor table, and so far, amazingly, nothing much has happened. I mean, I’ve had a few giggles when the younger years have passed us and a bunch of rather snooty Ravenclaw 6th years started cat-calling, but apart from that, no big palaver like I thought.

And really, maybe I shouldn’t have made such a big deal about this up in the dorm? When Marlene and Em get down here I suppose I’ll apologise to them, if they apologise back, of course.

But –

Oh _no_. 

Now _they’re_ here.

My head quickly turns down to my lap as Alice whispers to me, “Lily, you’ve gone as red as your hair!”

Thanks. Really. I appreciate knowing that I look like a giant tomato when the boy I kissed last night has just entered the room when possibly the whole school, including teachers, knows what happened, (and have most probably elaborated on the whole tale in the process.)

I brace myself for a presence next to me on the table, or an arm around me shoulder and/or waist, or even the well-known, “Go out with me, Evans?” amplified 100 times so the whole hall can hear...

...

But nothing’s happening.

I sneak a glance upwards, to see that all four of them have seated themselves a little way away from us, talking animatedly as if nothing had transpired yesterday at all. Of course, the hall is full of murmurings that I know have _nothing_ at all to do with morning lessons, but Potter looks nonplussed by it all.

Indignance begins to rise in my chest unwillingly. We _kissed_ last night; he actually _kissed_ me and I _let_ him and he has _nothing_ to say on the subject?

Then his head turns and his eyes meet mine, and I’m remembering everything from the Common Room and my heart starts beating madly in my chest even though I don’t really want it to.

And all he does is give me a little smile and a nod, nothing more, and then turns back to his friends.

That’s it?

That’s really it?

Alice places a hand on my shoulder because I’m very obviously distressed, although she probably thinks it’s because the amount of whispers has grown and not because I want some sort of verbal contact with Potter.

“We could get to Charms early if you want.”

I’m just about to stand up and agree with her when the morning post arrives, a flurry of brown, white, black and speckled feathers decks the hall, and I have to duck as one passes over my head and zooms off towards the Hufflepuff table.

Alice and I both receive a copy of the Daily Prophet with a massive head-line exclaiming, **_“Ministry members murdered in own home. Is no-one safe?”_**

Surprisingly, another owl begins to fly in my direction, and I recognise it as Potter’s. But even more surprising is that it lands on the table next to me, a note in its beak.

I sneak a glance back over to the Marauders, but Potter has made no indication he’s noticed this little happening.

Alice is nudging me to open it. But what if it’s a prank of some sort? Or even worse, a Howler that will announce everything that happened last night?

No, that’s ridiculous. I mean, he’s not _that_ horrible...is he?

I consider it, but then remember that he _did_ save Snape’s life two days ago.

So I’m opening the note, wondering what on Earth he possibly wants to say to me:

_Lily,_

_Could you meet me in the Library before Arithmancy, please?_

_James_.

Well, it’s certainly been a _fun_ morning so far. 


End file.
